a new life for me
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Percy is looking through his dresser when he realises that his life is different from what it used to be.


He paused in front of his old dresser briefly, taking in the scuff marks and scratches that Percy had tried so hard for years to remove, but just seemed to keep coming back.

The dresser had been given to him second-hand, of course, because what wasn't in this family? It was old and slightly beat up when he acquired it and no amount of fixing would ever make the dresser right again.

To Percy, this was just yet another sign that _home _was no longer _homey_, and he might do better in this cruel and competitive world in a home that didn't have a dresser covered in scuff marks.

The smell of Butterbeer wafted through Percy's nose when he moved to open one of the drawer, his grip faltering with the strength of the scent.

Percy had only ever had Butterbeer three times in his life, and never in his room, and images of one of his many brothers sprawled in Percy's room, sipping a Butterbeer and eating pastries crossed Percy's mind, angering him.

His pulse picked up at the thought that someone had entered his room without permission and that they had dared to consume beverages here in what was supposed to be a sacred place.

That they had done so was an insult, and that Percy had been unaware of this fact until now only served to infuriate him more.

If ever he needed a reason to leave, this was it!

No one respected him in this house or gave him any privacy; everyone was too busy pushing at each other, getting into one another's business until Percy wanted to scream and lock his door.

Percy sighed, smacking his hand against the dresser, making an annoyed gasp, wishing that everything in the world was so much easier.

He _wanted _to leave. He _wanted _to leave his family behind and finally make a name for himself, but at the same time, he couldn't help but see the tears in his mother's eyes or the disappointment on his father's face when Percy finally left.

Percy had been planning this for ages, his decision to finally move on with his own life and leave the annoyance of childhood behind him, but now that the day he had picked was drawing closer, Percy wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to actually leave.

He smacked his hand against the dresser again, and one of the drawers popped open, making Percy scowl and shove it shut before pausing, looking down at the drawer.

Percy opened the drawer to his dresser, and saw that there was over two dozen pieces of paper just sitting there; he frowned, noting that the sheets of old paper had probably been sitting in his dresser drawer for several years.

He hadn't bothered cleaning through his old paperwork from his earlier school years in a while, but pulling it out now, he realised that most of them were marked from his first and second years at Hogwarts.

Percy glanced at the papers, taking in old essays (mostly marked with _E_s or _O_s) and test scores. he remembered writing a few of the essays and taking the tests, but some of them seemed completely unfamiliar, like a total stranger had written them, a stranger who wasn't currently in the middle of an important decision to make.

He looked over one of the essays that he had written about, it would seem, about the use of goblins in the banks, and how ethical it was to allow them to handle other's money, despite not even being allowed to carry wands.

(Percy's opinion, as a thirteen year old, it would seem, had been that _no_, it was _not _ethical to allow goblins to maintain banks. The almost nineteen year old Percy had to agree.)

The next thing he picked up, though, was an old and faded photograph from what appeared to be at least nine years ago, as the version of Percy in the photo was not wearing Hogwarts robes, and all his siblings were gathered around what appeared to be his father's old car.

In the picture, Ron was perched on Bill's shoulders, grinning at the camera like it was his best friend in the world, while the twins held hands and smiled mischievously.

Percy recalled how, moments after the picture was taken, Fred and George had shoved Percy into a pond and run off laughing, leaving their older brother to gasp and splutter in an attempt to keep from drowning, while Charlie nearly fell over with laughter.

He traced his finger over the photograph, remembering how Bill and Charlie had been in the process of telling Dad a joke as the camera flashed, and Arthur Weasley continued to constantly turn around and chuckle at some joke that Percy couldn't even remember the punchline to.

Ginny was tucked into their mother's arm, just a little kid who couldn't even spell her own name, but she was leaning over to grasp Percy's shoulder, looking like she was half asleep as her head began to rest on his chest.

He had pushed her away in annoyance, and Ginny had begun to cry after Percy landed in the pond with a splash, complaining that she was wet and icky.

Percy gave the photo a ghost of a smile, looking at it with the memories of ten years that had happened since then.

They had all gotten older, but not really changed all that much; Fred and George were still idiots who goofed off and played pranks on Percy.

Ron was still that quiet little kid who hung off of all his older brothers, clinging to them like he hoped some sort of greatness would rub off on him.

Ginny was still always around, following Percy throughout the house and asking questions until he wanted to throttle her.

And Bill and Charlie were still two distant older brothers who had run out as fast as they could to start their own lives, neither able to really _handle _the idea of being able to hang around such a large family for any longer than was really necessary.

Why was it, then, that Mum seemed so opposed to the idea of _Percy _moving on with his own life, going out into the world to be who he wanted?

Why was it, then, that Dad seemed so frustrated whenever Percy talked about work at the Ministry and how fulfilling it truly was, as though Dad seemed to think Percy was personally attacking him with every little comment?

(Well, he _was_, but that was only because Dad was really doing nothing with his life and never had. Percy was _doing _something with his life, but Dad was standing still while the world passed him by.)

He sighed once more, setting the picture down and looking at one of the other items he had pulled out, this one being a drawing that was apparently from Ginny, though it must have been from a while ago, because everything was done in scribbling crayons, signed by a wobbly hand.

"_All of Us_", she had titled it, and indeed it was a (admittedly poorly done) drawing of the Weasley family, with the nine of them all standing together with red, flaming hair, with Dad standing taller than anyone else, his brown work robes well depicted next to Mum's flowery dress.

Percy was stuffed between Charlie and the twins, his thin body squeezed in and his glasses only drawn what looks like somewhat absent-mindedly, like Ginny had only recalled the glasses at the last minute and tossed them in haphazardly.

He wasn't smiling the drawing, unlike the others, and the real Percy couldn't help but frown as well, displeased by the thought that his sister had drawn him as grumpy.

There was a knock on the door just then, and Percy jumped in surprise, shoving the papers back into his drawer, turning to look as his brother, Ron, poked his head inside, and gave Percy a questioning glance when he saw Percy nervously shutting the dresser drawer with his hip.

"Mum wants to know if you're coming down for dinner or not, and she says that since it's our last night here, we're all going to eat outside. You know, with Hermione and Professor Lupin here, we might have some trouble fitting everyone at the table."

"Why? It's a table that can fit ten people, isn't it? How much room do we need?" Percy asked with a scowl, imagining squeezing in between all his siblings to argue and fight over the food.

"Well, Bill and Charlie are here," Ron replied with a shrug, and Percy raised an eyebrow in surprise. He hadn't seen the older boys since they had visited last summer for Quidditch.

He knew they had been around Hogwarts back in June for the TriWizard Tournament, (the one they didn't talk about) but Percy had been working then, and hadn't seen them.

But that they were back...Percy had always thought his brothers were smart for staying away from the family as much as they did, doing their best to live on their own, independent from the rest of the family for most of the year.

He had thought that their decision to remain disconnected from Mum and Dad and all the younger kids was probably the best possible decision.

The very _thought _of living in or near the Burrow for the next ten or twenty years...the thought of being so close that his Mum would expect Percy to pop back home on weekends and help out with the family...it just wasn't for him.

He had been spending the past month deciding whether or not Percy wanted to remain allowing himself to be tied to the Weasley family, to stick with their views of the world and their morals and their way of life, even though over the past year, Percy had begun to realise that his family was _absolutely _wrong about nearly everything he had grown up believing.

They were trying to fight a war that couldn't be won, and Percy had never wanted to lose _anything _in life, especially not when the answer was so clear.

He looked up to see Ron still standing in the doorway, watching as Percy thought about what he was going to do with his life in the future.

"Percy? Are you going to have dinner with us or not? I've got to tell Mum how many plates to get out _now_, so are you eating with us?" Ron gave Percy a questioning glance, to which the older boy hesitated, still thinking over the situation.

"Mhmm," Percy replied, looking down at the dresser where the old photo was and where his sister's drawing was. "No, I don't think I'll be having dinner tonight. I've got some…some, uh, stuff to sort through right now, and it might take a while."

"Okay," Ron said, giving Percy one last dubious glance before walking out, shutting the door behind him so that Percy was left by himself in his bedroom to rest a hand on the dresser that was covered in scuff marks and smelled of Butterbeer that he couldn't figure out where it had come from.

He had been spending almost nineteen years falling in line, obeying every rule his parents setting before him and always listening to what they said.

Percy had been a "good kid" and a "good student" his whole life, and now that he worked at the Ministry, he was a "model employee".

But his time at the Ministry was beginning to open Percy's eyes up to the truth about the world, that there was more than one opinion in the world, and he was beginning to see that he didn't necessarily have to agree with his parents.

Percy had been having second thoughts about staying at home with his family and sticking by their rules and morals, especially since he didn't agree with a lot of the things he had grown up with.

There were other ways to live life, he was starting to notice, and Percy was sure, now, that going out in the world to live his own life was the best option for him.

He didn't _need _to continue just being _another Weasley kid_, just one boy in a long list of boys who never accomplished anything or made any sort of name for themselves.

But, Percy knew now that, as he took one last look at his dresser drawer that contained memories of a more foolish boy, he was not required to live the same way as his parents.

He lifted his hand from the dresser with one last sigh and turned to look at all his other belongs, now seeing them as thing to pack into boxes and bags, realising that this was all stuff he could own in a place of his own.

Because he was trying to be his own person now, and Percy knew the only way to do so was to leave, once and for all, and start his own life.

There was no more time for second thoughts or questions; he _had _to move on now, and Percy couldn't help but smile at all the neat piles of things around him, knowing that soon enough, all of these things would be packed up for his new life.


End file.
